EPILOGUE 40

Maggie's wedding takes place on a bright late-summer day. I walk down the makeshift aisle—a white carpet rolled over luscious green grass—feeling the opposite of how I'd imagined I'd feel on this day.

Happy instead of grumpy. Optimistic rather than cynical. In love, not jaded. No scowls for me today, I have my dreamy rainbows and unicorns face on. Gah.

As I reach the middle of the aisle, Killian winks at me from his spot on one of the white chairs artfully arranged on the lawn of the eco-chic farm where Maggie and Corey are hosting their wedding.

And even though we've been dating and living together for almost a year now, my heart skips a beat. Perhaps it's seeing that familiar, fond grin on his face, the same he had the day he taught me how to ride a bike, or maybe it's just the way his eyes light up when he looks at me. Or it might simply be him wearing a black suit that has my knees wobble as I stumble forward.

The last time I saw him in formal attire was all those months ago in Lakeville Hills when he strolled into my bakery. So much has changed since then. Killian had to reinvent himself to fit into my world and has not made me feel guilty about it for a single second. Each day, he tells me how lucky he is to have me in his life and that he wouldn't trade me for all the billions in the world. My heart melts. Every. Single. Time.

The only thing Killian refused to accept about this new life was his alias. He ended up changing his legal name from Oswald Finch back to Killian St. Clair. I opposed the decision with everything I had, thinking it was a move too risky to put in place just for the sake of a name. But Killian refused to stay Oswald Finch for the rest of his life and brushed off my concerns with a simple, "What's life without a little risk, Spoon?" Which resulted in me spending the night before his courthouse appointment in a jittery state of nerves. But the application sailed through with no hiccups and, on the plus side, Killian presented the petition to request all new documents. So now, he has legit, government-issued papers that make us both sleep better at night.

As for me, I graduated this past June and found a job in the AI department of one of the biggest consulting groups in the country. Is it my dream job? Maybe not, but it's interesting enough and it pays the bills. And the best part? It's based in Chicago. It has allowed Killian and me to move out of my old shoebox apartment to a nice little house in a less expensive suburb halfway between his bar—he's not simply going to manage the Blackhawk, Mitch has offered to make him partner—and my office. We have lots of space and a large backyard. Having an outdoor outlet was something Killian confessed he missed the most about this new life, and I'm grateful we could find an affordable house with a garden. It's still not a ranch, but it's perfect for us. And when something inevitably breaks, Killian has learned to call for professional help.

We've also bought a used piano, and I'm teaching Killian how to play. After coaching me on how to ride a bike, he's also convinced me to take riding lessons. We go to a horse-riding camp every Saturday and I love it.

As for my graduate research, Dr. Hammond shut down the project the moment I got my degree. He probably thought he was slighting me. What he didn't consider is that if the university doesn't develop the research any further, the intellectual property reverts back to me in five years. Suits me just fine. And who knows, one day I might develop it into a business venture.

I take my place next to the gazebo functioning as an altar and wait with the rest of the guests for the bride to make her entrance.

The ceremony is beautiful, a perfect reflection of Maggie and Corey's love for each other as they exchange vows under an archway of flowers.

The sunset casts a golden glow over the gardens of the farm as we make our way from the ceremony to the reception. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers fills the air, creating an atmosphere of pure magic.

Rays of warm light glint off the champagne flutes as we weave our way through the tables, searching for our assigned seats as laughter and music ripple through the crowd, adding to the cheerful vibe.

I can't help but marvel at how much I'm enjoying this wedding. Who would've thought? Me, Leighton, the gal who used to hate weddings, finally embracing the joy.

I drop my clutch at our table and ask Killian to get us one of those glasses of bubbly as I go get some food for us.

The appetizer buffet is set up on long, beautifully decorated tables, with guests mingling and chatting as they load their plates. Once everyone has had their fill, we all sit down to enjoy the main courses served at the table.

"Gosh, I'm stuffed," I say as a server takes away the second course. "I'm never eating again."

Killian smirks. "Are you sure? You still haven't had the cake."

As if on cue, another server announces that the dessert buffet is now open.

A dessert buffet? Come on, that's unfair.

"Go get all those sweet treats," Killian teases. "You know you want them."

"Okay, cowboy, but don't complain if you have to carry me to our room because I'm too full to walk."

"I wouldn't dare complain." Smirk. "I might even enjoy tossing you over my shoulder later, Sugar."

Bet he would. I give him a mock reproaching look and go get in line. As I survey the mouthwatering array of treats before me, I catch the eye of another one of Maggie's bridesmaids in front of me in the line. Her cousin Felicity.

We're not close friends, but I've known her for as long as I've known Maggie. We've also been on a trip together once. I mean before the bachelorette getaway last April.

She gives me a side glance and smiles sarcastically. "You screwed me, you know?"

I blink, confused. "I what?"

The smirk is back on her face, but now I can see that it's playful, not angry. "You were supposed to be the other single gal in the wedding party, but you showed up with that instead."

She points behind her back at Killian, who, even seated at a table doing nothing, still looks like a secret agent ready to save the world and melt lots of underwear in the process.

I'll never stop obsessing over how hot he is in a dark suit. This one might not be designer, only a cheap number from the mall. But, gosh, the man can rock it. He looks like an Armani ad.

"Sorry," I say, not really meaning it but also meaning it a little bit. Before Killian splashed into my life, I was her. And I would've hated to be the only single bridesmaid at the wedding.

"I was counting on you not to be the only one wearing a scarlet S on her chest," Felicity continues, grabbing two empty plates and handing me one. "At least I could've told my parents. See, Leighton is also single. She's smart, cool, nothing wrong with her."

"Thanks, I guess." I drop a mini tiramisu glass on my plate. "If it's any consolation, when Maggie told me she was engaged, I was 100 per cent sure I'd be the ninth wheel at this wedding. But love—" I stop myself short.

Felicity raises an eyebrow at me. "Were you about to tell me love hits you when you least expect it?"

"Nope, no." I so was, but thankfully I stopped my wise coupled human brain just in time. There is really something about being in love that turns you into a pink-glassed, soppy romantic. But I'm trying my best to remain normal. Especially around people who don't deserve obnoxious optimism.

"Good, because I don't think I could take someone else telling me that."

On impulse, I drop my dessert plate and hug her. "You're a wonderful person," I say, squeezing on for emphasis. "Having a man in your life or not isn't a definition of your worth. Meeting someone you can fall in love with is just dumb luck and doesn't reflect on your character in any way whatsoever. You rock, girl, and don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise."

I squeeze her one last time and let go.

She stares at me in slight shock before saying, "That was super weird." Then she reaches out and pats my arm. "But also appreciated. Thank you."

Her eyes get a little shinier.

I nod and we move along the line before the people behind us start a mob.

"You know," I continue, getting all the chocolates on my plate, "technically, you're not the only single person in the wedding party…"

"You mean the brother of the groom? He's a notorious asshole."

"A hot asshole, though."

"Are you trying to matchmake me now?"

"Not exactly," I say, even if I am a little, can't help it, the instinct has taken over. I'm out of my mind happy and I want everyone around me to be, too.

"What does that mean?"

"That I don't want to set you up for life." Lie, I've been waiting all night to tell her this, after running a background check on the man in question with Maggie, of course. "But if you want to take the edge off this horrendous celebration of love, the best man has been staring at you all day."

"Has he?" She scans the crowd until she finds him leaning against the bar, drink in hand, looking at her like she's more appetizing than any of the desserts on display.

Felicity turns away quickly. "He sure gives intense eye contact. You think I should pursue it?"

"Depends on what you want. He might be good only for a night of fun and nothing else."

"Then perhaps not."

"You could always ask him for a dance. Get all the wise coupled humans off your back."

"Who?"

"People in couples, we get less restless when we see a potential relationship in the making. Your parents might get off your case for the rest of the night as well."

She beams at me. "You're funnier than I remembered." She covers my hand with hers. "And rest easy, I'll be putting myself out there…"

We both laugh, then she nods at me and goes. I watch her walk back to her table. The best man promptly chucks down the remains of his drink and detaches himself from the bar in hot pursuit.

Nothing might come out of it, but the wise coupled human in me likes to think it can be the start of a great love story.

"You look awfully pleased with yourself," Killian comments as I sit back at our table.

I pop a chocolate in my mouth. "I might've just masterminded a best man and bridesmaid trope."

"You mean those two?"

I turn around and find Felicity being thoroughly kissed by the best man. "Wow, that was fast."

"Yeah, Cupid, clearly your doing. Anything for me on that plate?"

I stand back up and sit on his lap. "We can share."

I spoon-feed him bites of the various desserts, fully aware that I'm being offensively cheesy. But what can I say, weddings are just so romantic.

At my unshakable dreamy expression, Killian chuckles. "So, you into these kinds of things?"

"What things?"

He twirls a finger around. "Big days with white dresses, emotional toasts, and lots of dancing."

"Oh, you know." I try to play it cool as I shift slightly in Killian's lap, the plate of mini desserts balanced precariously in my hand.

"Want to have another one soon?"

"No one's invited us so I don't?—"

"I meant us, Sugar Spoon." His voice is teasing, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my arm.

"Ah, oh… well, I wouldn't be completely opposed to the idea."

"Then let's do it soon. But maybe a little less fancy."

"What do you mean?"

"We could ask the guests to come in casual clothes, no dresses allowed, only jeans and cowboy boots."

I see all my fairy tale wedding fantasies crumble and almost drop the plate. "That could work." I let out a nervous chuckle. "It'd be original for sure."

He flips a finger under my nose. "When, Sugar, will you learn to tell if I'm messing with you?"

"You're messing with me about the wedding? Because it isn't funny…"

"Not the wedding, Sugar, just the cowboy theme. You can have your princess wedding. Let's just do it outdoors on a summer night. You in a flowing white dress, fairy lights strung up between trees…"

I give him a scrutinizing look. "How long have you been thinking about it?"

Small shrug. "A little while."

"Only a little while, huh?" I tease, leaning into his chest. "You've got quite the details for something you've only thought about ‘a little while.'"

Killian's arms wrap around me in a gentle but firm hold. "It was just a suggestion. My only wish is for you to have everything you've ever wanted."

I nestle into Killian's embrace. "Careful, St. Clair, that's almost cinnamon roll sweet. You're not going to propose with a ring hidden in a cupcake next, are you?"

Killian lets out a hearty laugh. "I was thinking more of a cinnamon bun, but if that's off the table, I'll have to think of something else."

"And the good part is that the only thing I really want, I already have, and it's you."

"Who's being corny now?"

I ignore his sarcasm and swipe a smudge of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. "I used to think love was just a beautiful lie, a fantasy spun in stories. But you, Killian St. Clair, you made it all real. Every dream, every silly hope I've ever had." He holds my hand now, his steely gaze becoming impossibly intense. "I still don't know how it's possible that you're here. But I like to think that you were right, that our love is so strong as to transcend time and space, that"— I pause, searching for the right words— "that our souls were destined to find each other, no matter the impossibility of it."

Killian smirks. "Oh, so now we're fated mates, uh?"

I swat him playfully. "Such a beautiful bastard."

"It doesn't matter what we are, Sugar. Our story, our rules."